


In Command

by CyberII



Series: In Command (Garrus x Miranda) [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Character(s), Blow Jobs, Boobjob, Complete, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploration, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Het, Heterosexual Sex, Heterosexuality, Humor, Interspecies, Kink Meme, Kissing, Love/Hate, Mass Effect Kink Meme, Multiple Orgasms, My First Fanfic, Non-Canon Relationship, Orgasm, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Porn, Porn With Plot, Prompt Fic, Rare Pairings, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Simultaneous Orgasm, Smut, Voyeurism, Xeno, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberII/pseuds/CyberII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MassKink fill, Miranda/Garrus hate-love romance, graphic smut, some fight, some humor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Command

**Author's Note:**

> _A bit of author's note: my first fanfiction writing attempt, done with DJ Mutante's Frenchcore liveset ~~helping~~ **not helping** me getting in the mood. Corrected the original formatting._
> 
>  
> 
> _Original MassKink prompt: some Miranda/Garrus Hate - Love romance. Starts out as a fight Could be verbal or physical your choice), adrenaline pumps, Miranda gets aroused when strong Turian slams her into the wall out of annoyance/anger... he smells her hormones :D and it kicks in his 'mating instinct'. Hot sexings ensues. Could be animalistic or tender or just plain old fun sexings... no matter ^_^_

“I didn’t volunteer for it,” Vakarian snarled. “What do you suppose me to do – gather all Shepard’s team and tell them ‘Hey, that’s Miranda, she’s Cerberus operative and you all must respect her, because she’s XO and not me’? If you’re having hard time making the others respect your authority, it’s your problem, not mine, Lawson.”

That talk had to occur sooner or later, she reminded herself. Shepard breaking every Cerberus regulation was someone she could deal with – it was Shepard after all, human, Alliance, something she was familiar with. But when she, Normandy SR2 second-in-command met an unexpected competition in the person of Archangel himself, who tacitly became not formal, but actual second-in-command, respected by all new squadmates with apparently no efforts from himself… Not to mention, he made even the Cerberus part of the crew tiptoe around the Main Battery. She had to admit, a tall scarred turian vigilante rarely showing up in good mood was intimidating, even if not taking his impressive dossier. But that ease he was making an impression with – it irritated Miranda. Leadership wasn’t just about intimidation, it was something in him…

She sighed and raised her eyes to meet his. Unreadable turian expression on his stark plated face, he leaned on the wall, arms folded, posture tense. Radiant icy-blue eyes bore into her top down like he was scoping her. Miranda fought sudden shivering, retaining her cold façade.

“They might be more cooperative with the right example of respect and subordination. Your species are known for being disciplined…”

Vakarian pushed himself from the wall, standing straight, towering above her.  
“What?” his tone was cold like his eyes. To her cost, Miranda failed to notice the sharp undertone while she continued.  
“You must give them a good example. If the rest see you comply with our regulations…”

She didn’t quite make out what happened next. One long stride, one fluid motion from the opposite side of her desk, and she’d been literally hauled off her chair, tossed in the air for a split second, and the wall of her cabinet slammed into her back, kicking the breath out of her lungs. She became very aware of armored forearm pressing her against the wall with inhuman strength, looming figure over her, dagger-like teeth too close to her face, bared by spread mandibles. She gasped, trying not to let her legs turn into jelly. For a second terror crawled over her skin, leaving goosebumps; it must be something about the primal fear, being cornered by a natural predator, strong, enraged…

The turian eyes were infuriated, Miranda felt her heart skipped a beat when he looked her straight in the eye, hissing.  
“What you just said?”

Harsh metallic undertone sent shivers along her spine. Crap, she pushed him too far this time. She did her best to recollect herself.

“Let go, Vakarian,” she swallowed; her throat feeling suddenly dry and whole body strangely agitated. It’s all about adrenaline burst and a moment of terror, she told herself, not about his menacing posture, his burning eyes… his strength… his alien scent…

“Or what?” his low growl bode no good. “I can knock you out cold before there’s a tint of biotic blue on your fingertips. You found a wrong person to piss off.”

His eyes were mere inches from hers, digging into her skull with narrow pupils; Miranda could feel his breath, coming out along with his words, on her skin, making it tingle and flush. She involuntarily winced, trying to back off or push him away, or just turn her face away from that alien invasion of her private space.

“Twenty four,” his voice rang cold resounding metal, “Twenty four Cerberus operatives I’ve killed in haste of our chase after Saren. And they didn’t even give me a wrong look…”

He grabbed her arm halfway from pushing him, twisted it, pinning to the wall; the vicious grip on her wrist made her clench her teeth; something in her lower abdomen responded to that harsh movement with an electric spark. Her eyes widened. No way. No, no, no, she isn’t getting aroused of being pinned to a wall by one of the most dangerous men she ever heard of… Alien, she corrected herself to recollect her thoughts.

“What next?” she snapped trying to sound casually. “What do you want from me?”

It seemed like her confidence betrayed her; species like turians, heavily relying on tones in their linguistics, were hard to trick. He leaned even closer, Miranda felt her body cringe against her will. She swore she could feel the heat emanating from his body even through the armor, so hotter than human; his scent was intoxicating – a mixture of gun grease, heated metal and something inhuman but unmistakably masculine, something that made her head spin slightly… She shut her eyes, wishing to control her breath and that electricity between her legs.

She heard Garrus let out a short dry laughter.

“You’re scared of me, Miranda.” His voice was dripping with venom, subvocals deceptively soft. “That’s why you want to have me on a leash. Mind you… it’s not a leash you’re able to keep hold of,” his hot whisper tickled her ear. Her breath quivered, he craned his long alien neck, almost tracing her face with his nose.

“Your fear smells delicious…”

She realized belatedly her forehead is covered with sweat, giving her away, when she felt a drop running down her right temple. When a hot, rough and moist touch on her skin stopped it and traced its way up, hair on the back of her neck rose. She froze in his grip, eyes wide, almost panicking; if the turian decided to let her go, her knees couldn’t provide any support for her to stand straight at the moment.

He released her wrist, his tongue wasn’t on her skin anymore either, yet Miranda felt long gloved fingers on her hair, exposing her right ear and neck _to these sharp teeth_ a stray thought flashed. Fear and arousal stung conjoined, making her heart jump and gut clench. He probably noticed her body trembling, his face was back in front of hers, piercing gaze studying her features. He looked at her for several long seconds without even blinking, then turned and _smelled her neck_ , as if he was trying to figure out something. She felt his breath tickling behind her ear, audible inhale, long pause…

He chuckled.

Garrus chuckled, voice enriched with deep rumbling. He returned in front of her, eyes shining with amusement.  
“Miss Lawson, what a surprise,” he gave her a leering look, pointy teeth flashing, “You’re not _just_ scared of me.”

His mouth was too close to her skin, she shivered.  
“You… want me.”

“No, I don’t,” she retorted automatically, her voice not too steady though. “How dare you…”

 

“Leave this crap for human males,” he cut her out, sliding his gloved finger along her jaw line, “I might be not sure from the beginning if that could be some kind of human perfume… But some things are similar between species. Like your pheromones in the air… letting me know you’re eager to loosen up for me.”

He almost purred the last words, lifted a hand to his mouth, purposefully slow, watching her reaction – fucking show-off – gently bit on his fingertips and took off his gauntlet with those sharp teeth. Threw it in the corner; Miranda felt hard long digits cupping her cheek, rough finger pad ran along her lower lip – she jerked her head, trying to escape that intimate touch.

“I swear, Vakarian, I’m going to scream,” her voice was shaky, she didn’t believe herself as she heard it.

The turian flashed her a smile, unabashed.  
“Go on. Scream. You think anyone would come to the rescue?”

His voice, soft and gravelly at the same time, gave her shivers.  
“You know you’re not that popular aboard. They would more likely gather up to enjoy your screams… Maybe placing bets.”

His fingers slid along her neck, tugging on her collar, talons ripped it open. She jerked, but he held her steady, dipping his head in the crook of her neck, tasting her skin with the tip of his tongue. Miranda winced, when he found some particularly sensitive spot to tease, desire stung sharply making her squeeze her thighs together.

“Your heart rate just peaked,” she heard duotone murmur in her ear, “Breath pattern changed… I got your stats displayed, you still think you can fool me with that stubborn denial?”

Armored fingers held her chin when he lifted it for her to meet his eyes – burning with need.  
“You wanted to scream?” he took her face in his hands, bending the neck to bring his own face closer, “I’ll make you scream my name, I promise…”

She slammed him biotically without warning – or she thought so. Blue energy splashes were about to escape her fingers to send the turian flying, but his reaction was lightning-fast. With a C-Sec-honed skill, he spun her around, putting an armlock on her and forcing her drop to her knees. Miranda yelped from a sharp pain in her elbow, hissed through gritted teeth, trying to recover her breath. Garrus’ firm grip held her in a humiliating position, with her ass in the air and face pressed to the floor, his armored thigh between her parted legs.

“Oh, you’re willing to put up a fight?” He stroke her hair with his free hand, long fingers travelled down her spine to the curve of her butt, “I must admit I hardly consider it a turn-off. Back in my military days, there was a recon scout we had a knockdown-dragout fight for nine rounds with, and after beating the shit out of each other we moved to her apartment for a steamy tiebreaker…”

He gently traced a seam between her legs up and down, applying just a little pressure when passing her pussy, so she could feel it through her skin-tight clothes. And the mental image he gave her, of him, tall, strong, agile, hot from fight, probably out of his armor, entwined with another woman, didn’t help.

“But if you want to play that way, you should put more effort in struggling,” he summed up with a hint of amusement.  
“So you set your mind on raping me?” Miranda snapped in helpless rage. “Something going all the way from Shanxi, huh?”  
“Oh, Spirits, please,” judging by his intonation he rolled his eyes probably, “That’s so not my style. Speaking of this, I haven’t had any decent, ah, intercourse in a while, but I’m not that desperate, Miranda. Not when I have a willing woman within my reach.”

He let go of her arms only to lean closer, bend over her, embraced her from behind. His hands slowly stroke her waist, angular chestplate still pressing her upper body down to the floor, only now his hot breath and rough tongue were back on her neck.

“I won’t rape you,” he nibbled lightly on her earlobe, “First I’ll make you admit you want it. I won’t mind if you beg me to have sex with you.”

His long tongue snaked around her neck, making her buck her hips, grinding against his codpiece. Sweet Jesus, just a mere thought of the things he could do with that tongue made her cheeks turn scarlet.

“Miranda,” he breathed out in her ear, heavy subvocals rumbling through their bodies, “I’ve always admired your directness, your courage, your dedication. Those are, ah, very turian qualities, and you have the guts for that straightforward approach of yours; otherwise you won’t ever dare to start this conversation with someone like me. I can go away, leaving you here, hot and bothered, alone in your misery. Or you can find the strength to stay straightforward – and admit your desires; and I promise I’ll find a way to make you never regret it.”

His long arms travelled along her body, one hand tentatively grope her breast; he wasn’t so sure what to do with them though, but his hot narrow palm rubbed her already erect nipple through the suit. Another hand settled between her legs, inactive, yet radiating inhuman heat. Miranda felt her libido betraying her; not that she has anything to lose since she learned she’s not able to…

“Fine,” she whispered, breathing deep, “You won. I… I really want you, Archangel. Please…”

She caught a sound of him thanking the Spirits under his breath, it made her heart flutter – he hoped for her to accept. He nuzzled at her neck, talons digging into the cleavage of her suit.  
“Kinky,” he murmured, “You want him, huh? The Omega legend? It’s your luck I can arrange that…”

“For me you are him,” she whispered, “I never knew you before like Shepard did. You impressed me as Archangel, and I don’t mind you bled all over my gloves just a bit later…”

There was a silence, while he buried his face in her long dark hair. She felt his steady breath on her skin, scorching hot, sensually tingling.

“I start to feel bad about burying him,” he chuckled finally, “Maybe that Archangel legend still has the potential…”

He fondled her body, delicate fingers tracing her curves. She didn’t expect a turian to be that gentle actually.

“At least he’s still alluring to women of, ah, various species,” he mused rather bitterly.

Miranda felt like she has to do something. She took his glove-free hand, bringing it to her face, rubbing his slender wrist with her cheek, kissing its underside, feeling his thin bones and rapid pulse.

“You are Archangel,” she whispered, touching his knuckles with her lips, “Don’t let your loss overwhelm the worthy initiative. No one is perfect…”

“It’s fun to hear from a perfect human woman,” he purred in her ear.

She wasn’t so sure how did she end up in this. Once he was all aggressive and probably willing to rip her throat out, next she was stunned by his dominance over her, and then was his tender and passionate approach, really unexpected, yet not unwelcome. But of all things that she could imagine Project Lazarus may lead her to – a turian, Miri, seriously? What was wrong with her physiology that made her submit to his persistence? Does she have any idea of how it would work with someone that different?

She desperately needed to stop thinking, she told herself. She shifted under him, twisting her body to face him, throwing her arms around his neck, trying to keep in mind not to disturb his injured side much. Miranda pulled his face closer, pressing her lips fiercely against his hard mouthplates, not giving a damn if he’s able to return that gesture. His mandibles fluttered against her cheeks in amazement when she ran an experimental hand along his unarmored part of neck, alien feeling of random scales on his hot suede skin. Hesitant, he opened his mouth slightly; the tip of his tongue touched her lips, encouraging her to entwine her own tongue with his. He seemed to be a quick learner, letting the strong roughly textured muscle to cautiously explore her mouth; intent eyes gleaming with curiosity. 

“Figures,” the turian smirked, when they broke a kiss, “I saw humans doing that thing many times on the Citadel, never though I’m going to try it myself.”

“Then you have a whole bunch of sexy human things to try,” Miranda gave him a wink, “I bet my perfect ass on it.”

“Ah, looking forward to it, but… Hate to lift myself from you,” he murmured, propping himself up on his arms, “But my armor gets really uncomfortable at this point.”

Garrus straightened up, leaving her on the floor just to run hasty fingers over the clasps of his battered armor. Miranda slid up the wall on shaky legs, eyeing up him undressing. One by one, pieces of his armor dropped on the floor discarded, until he was just in his underarmor, black with silver and blue lining, looking breathtakingly tall and lithe without that bulkiness. Hell, she saw lots of turians in their civil clothes, she knew they are naturally slim, but she never was that aroused before, as she was now admiring long graceful lines of his body.

“Won’t you mind if I raise temperature a little here?” he turned to the room climate control panel, “Your human preset is a bit chilly for my taste.”

She approached him, embraced his rigid body from behind, snaking her arms around that impossibly slim waist, leaning into his body heat. That felt so catastrophically wrong. That felt so unimaginably right.

“Sure, anything for your comfort,” her hand slid down his flat abdomen, feeling lean muscles shifting slightly with his deep breath, tenderly cupped the large bulge building in his groin area – Garrus inhaled sharply, his body strained in her arms. She stroke his length gently through the fabric of underarmor, noted absentmindedly that part of his anatomy is even hotter than the rest of him; his hardness proving he’s very willing to continue what they started.

Rough three-fingered hand covered her palm, guiding it to the fastener, allowing her to take part in stripping him off. Her fingers trembled with agitation, all four of their hands worked on divesting him, baring his broad shoulders, narrowing descent of overlapping silvery plates with light terracotta skin patches between them. Impatiently Miranda slid her hand in his pants, not waiting for him to peel the suit off completely; he froze, when she felt his pulsing slick shaft in her searching hand. She ran gentle fingers along its impressive length, mesmerized by the alien texture, ridged yet smooth. Weird, unfamiliar, but not repulsive.

“Your hand is cold,” his soft voice brought her out of her daze. “Not too cold for that touch to become unpleasant though.”

“I’m just warming up,” Miranda giggled, feeling surprisingly lightheaded when she managed to pull the remains of his clothes down his lean thighs.

It was blue.

It was magnificent compared to average human size, but it was that incredible shade of cobalt blue which left Miranda stunned. She gingerly touched a turian cock with her fingertips to ensure it’s real.

“Something wrong?” she heard deep concern in Garrus’ voice.

“N-no,” she breathed out quickly, wrapping her hand around his girth, “Just too wonderfully right to believe.”

“Ah, good,” his angular body relaxed a bit in her embrace, flanging in his voice growing heavier as he obviously enjoyed her fingers exploring that area, “I… wasn’t so sure… if I’m too, ah, alien… for you…”

She gave him a harder stroke, whispered.  
“Don’t even start it… “

Her lips trailed the edges of the plates on his back in search for small sensitive skin patches, one arm around his slim waist, the other studying his reaction to different kind of touch down there. Not so different from human males – he had a cock and loved the attention to it. His light sigh turned into low moan – melodious like chords, combined of tones impossible to emit from any voice box other than turian. She felt the rumbling of that sound deep in his chest, pressed her body to his back as hard as it was possible, humming dreamy in his prominent armored spine. Hearing, no, making him moaning like that overflowed her with a heat wave of excitement. She wanted to hear that delicious sound again and again.

That was it, the final encouragement she needed to set up her mind. Garrus Vakarian – no, the famous Archangel himself allowed her to get under his armor, and now he was in her arms, naked, vulnerable, hard, moaning because of her touching his most intimate part; that gave her an amazing feeling of her power over him and his – over her. Maybe the suicidal haste of their mission sharpened their sensual desires, but it was the moment worth to savor, logic off.

“More sounds like that, Garrus, and you won’t even have to touch me to get me off,” Miranda rubbed her cheek against his shoulder blade – or somewhere it should be located under the plating.

“Are you warning or encouraging me?” he replied, smiling over his shoulder, “Maybe we can work it out how to add the touching too?”

She stepped around him to stand before his eyes – they were scorching hot as a blue flame of wielding torch. Miranda felt like his glare could cut the clothes off her body, and even if he does she was in no mood to protest.

She slid the zipper of her suit down, locking her gaze with his, revealing her porcelain skin to him. He questioningly stared down on her buxom breasts, hardly covered with skimpy triangles of half-transparent lace. Turians aren’t mammals, she remembered, their women have no milk glands. Yet she had no hesitation in showing him all the advantages of interspecies affair.

“Since you asked for a touch – here’s something for you to touch, big guy,” Miranda worked her arms out of the sleeves, leaving the upper part of her suit to hang loose around her waist. She took his long hand and gently placed on her breast, his thumb on her nipple.  
“Try it, just mind your talons…”

Garrus rolled his eyes.  
“Oh, please, are you thinking of me as some kind of beast or uplifted barbarian?”

He slightly pressed his fingerpads into her soft mound.  
“We have built advanced technologies with those hands. We became a spacefaring race centuries before your species learned your planet isn’t flat and your sun doesn’t spin around it…”

He let out a hearty laughter, observing mixed emotions on her face.  
“One of the random things learned from the Extranet. Thought it’s too hilarious to remember.”

“I… apologize,” Miranda frowned, “That obviously wasn’t my best line for occasions like… this. It’s just… they look dangerous.”

“I know,” he carefully traced her chin with the tip of his talon, “They are. But unless that drives you wild, you won’t be acquainted to them, not now.”

He quickly stepped out of the heap of his underarmor, caught the woman by her waist and dragged to a chair nearby. He sat down, placing her on his bony lap, examining the zippers on her suit.

“Nevertheless, I think you owe me a good apology,” he unclasped her belt, “Or I can comment on your human squishiness and see how you like it.”

He took off her boot, gave it a thoughtful look, then her foot.  
“Why do you need that many digits on your feet?”

“Sure, I’ll apologize in any way you want me to,” she let out a sniggle, “I can keep the boots on if you want it. Just let us close this topic.”

“Oh, you can?” the turian tilted his head, “Sounds like a good idea, a little less of confusing human anatomy… for the first time. At least I’m used to see you in them.”

“Fine,” Miranda kicked off the second boot to slide her suit down, he stopped her to do it himself. Cautiously, as if he was expecting to discover something horrifying, he worked the fabric past her curvy hips. Hummed acknowledgedly at the sight of matching lace panties. Then rolled the suit all the way down her legs. He took a long look at them, making her almost uncomfortable, and then ran his fingerpads from her heel along her ankle and calf to the knee.

His long arm reached out for her scattered boots. 

“So, anything particular on your mind?” she pulled on the boot-top. He shook his head, hands exploring her pliable curves. It felt… amazing, like her skin is melting under that hot touch.

“Why do you wear… this?” he tugged lightly on her bra strap, “Those bits are too tiny to cover… anything.”

“It’s not just about covering, it supports…”

“Nah-ah,” Garrus slid his palms under her breasts, feeling their weight, “It doesn’t support much either.”

“And it’s sexy,” she added, laying her hands on his on top of her chest. He curiously eyed a valley between them going even deeper, when she pressed them together.

“So that is sexy for humans… Noted. Now all the clothes giving a clear shot of that area start to make sense for me,” he teased her. Miranda pursed her lips, he brushed them with his tongue, making her smile involuntarily.  
“Hey, I’m only learning to appreciate your species… in this context. Was it that easy for you with me?”

“Not really,” she planted light kisses on his mouthplates and uninjured mandible, “But there are also things aside from your appearance that make you even more attractive.”

“Is that the right moment to say you’re beautiful?” he nipped lightly on her neck.

Words that simple shouldn’t strike her, tired of obtrusive males drooling over every inch of her perfect body. He didn’t say her anything like he loves her, wants to be with her, never going to let her go… None of these cheesy pathetic lies she abhorred, yet she got most of the time from desperate human machos repeatedly trying and failing in getting in her panties. Something about this alien guy was so… sincere and fresh. And he already was closer to her panties than anyone in a long time.

Miranda unclasped her bra, letting it slide off, crossed arms under her breasts, pushing them up for him to take a good look. His smug grin grew wider, she gave him a sly smile in return. He pulled her closer, gingerly touching the pink circle of her areola with his talon’s backside.  
“Hmm, soft,” he murmured almost inaudibly, dipping his head into her cleavage. His long tongue left a wet trail on her skin, and when it circled one of her already sensitive nipples, she had to grab his cowl for support. Shivers and sparks ran through her body, making her arch her back, a long reedy arm seized her round the middle, steadying her. Another hand grope her knee, making her part her legs, armored palm slid down her stomach to the last lace triangle. Miranda gasped, the electric sensation caught her by surprise, yet she craved it already.

“Soaking wet down there,” she heard his chuckle between the licks.

“What else did you expect making me wet for you?” she panted, burying her flushed face in his neck.

“And I’ve been thinking that ‘making wet’ saying is about your human sweating,” his tongue lapped her breast again.

His bony fingers explored her pussy, the heat of his touch set her on fire even through the thin fabric. He felt her body trembling and let his hand slip under her panties, gently nipping on her breasts. She couldn’t help herself, but thrust her hips in his hand, when a rough hot fingerpad short-circuited her clit, other fingers rubbing her moist folds on their way to her entrance.

Garrus paused to pull her remaining piece of cloth off, made her change her position, her back pressed to his angular chest, legs spread wide by his thighs and his chin resting on her shoulder. She felt his heavy breath and some kind of rumble deep in his chest, his hard member insistently rubbing against her ass cheeks. And then his long arms were back all over her body, teasing, rubbing squeezing, caressing; and his tongue… it just snaked down from where his head rested all the way to her nipples. Holy Mother of God, Miranda though, there was no way to experience that with a human man; her thoughts cut off by those hot fingertips on the sensitive nub, aching for attention. He studied the jerks of her body, her moans, incoherent whispering, how she reacted to the various kinds of sensual stimulation, occasionally pressing her closer and nibbling on her neck, visibly restraining himself from further actions. The pace of his fingers sliding along her slick folds was agonizingly slow, it drove her insane. Cerberus, Project Lazarus, Collectors, Shepard – all was forgotten, her universe narrowed to the scorching hot embrace of her unexpected lover. And when his taloned finger slowly and cautiously entered her, she mewled his name, thrusting her hips into his palm. He steadied her, pushing into her vagina digit after digit, and the mere heat inside of her drove her over the edge. She felt tight knot building up in her abdomen, shooting electricity through her body, her legs muscles contracting convulsively. Her whole body arched and grew rigid as the room exploded around her in blinding white flash. She came, gasping for air, moaning something inarticulate _just for him_ again and again, intense waves of delight making her body clench and pulse with pure bliss.

When her senses returned to her, the ceiling still was spinning slightly; her whole frame still shook in postorgasmic waves rippling through her. She closed her eyes, still seeing stars on the backside of her eyelids, trying to catch her breath, feeling Garrus’ hot grasp, some kind of purring she felt more through his chest than the translator. His hands and tongue still caressed her tenderly.

“You’re, ah, rather quick to finish,” he murmured with amusement, “Do all humans prefer ‘quickies’?”

“Tease,” Miranda breathed out as soon as could control her voice, “Just you wait, human women recover fast.”

“Can’t wait for it,” Garrus’ voice was quiet and soft, but the thick flanging gave out his impatience, “It’s getting… hardly tolerable.”

“And what stopped you before?” Miranda turned to him, “After that urgency when you made me confess I’d try it with you - I was pretty sure you’ll be screwing my brains out in no time…”

His half-lidded eyes focused on her.  
“Ah, sorry, I made that impression… Didn’t want to look like an asshole thinking only about my own satisfaction.”

She blinked questioningly. Straddled his lean thighs to face him and embraced his long neck.

“Whoa, Vakarian, look what I found here… So, under all your armor, badass and gloomy attitude hides a really nice guy?”

“It’s a turian thing, I guess,” he started, “Think about the others first…”

She cut him off with a kiss, as passionate as it could be with someone without proper lips. He tried to return it though. Her hand landed on his rigid pulsing cock, drawing a gasp from him when she ran her fingers from base to the tip.

She slid between his long legs on her knees, throwing a lustful gaze on him.  
“I think you’re the kind of a nice guy that deserves better…”

His burning blue eyes watched her intently, when she stroke his long ridged shaft, traced her tongue along his length. Hoping not to end up with a dislocated jaw she circled the tip of his cock with her tongue, licked its ridges and let it slide into her mouth, lowering her head. It slipped in, while she was teasing its underside. He tasted alien, yet not unpleasant. She traced that hot delicate surface, raising her eyes to meet his. He leaned back, head tilted, eyes wide, fixated on her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. His mandibles quivered giving out his excitement. She gave him a harder suck, driving him deeper inside of her mouth, tenderly squeezing its base with her hand. Garrus’ breath was cut off, he froze, hand reaching out for her hair. She shifted a bit, still with his cock in her mouth, pushed her breasts upper, took them in her hands and squeezed his length between them. His held breath escaped his lungs with a sexiest duotone moan she ever heard; she joined, moaning while still sucking on his tip and rubbing his shaft between her fleshy mounds…

* * *

_  
“Holy shit, pinch me, EDI! Do you see that… what I see?”_

_“That isn’t covered by my primary functions, Mr. Moreau, but I’m aware that, based on my additional data, your actions are unethical towards the crew.”_

_“You ain’t my Mom… See, I just hoped they will… I mean, they better **not** try to start another fight. We had enough of Jack!”_

_“They didn’t, Jeff.”_

_“But they could… Ah, hell, why am I making excuses? No one will ever know about it anyway. I’m so keeping it to myself!”_

* * *

She felt his cock twitching, when she stroke it with her tongue, squeezed between her breasts, let it enter her mouth. She explored his alien texture with her lips, giving him a good suck; she felt he was close by the grip on her strands, his melodious sounds, not picking by translator anymore. She didn’t need the translation for those ones. She decided to give it a try.

Miranda released his member from her breasts, locking her fingers on his waist. She lifted her head, smiling at the sight of his absolutely stunned expression – even the hardly readable turian face bore a look of astonishment at the moments like that. She took a breath and let him slide along her tongue deeper in her throat.

Garrus gasped. He choked on his breath. Apparently he didn’t experience anything like that before. His fingers, holding a handful of her long hair, just froze, slightly shaking. His angular hips jerked – and she moved her head forward, letting him enter her mouth fully, up to the hilt. He was either swearing or praying – heavy waves of flanging and short snaps of words, which didn’t translate as complete sentences, accompanied by deep uneven rumbling inside of his chest. He was ecstatic about her mouth pleasing him, strokes getting slow and long. She couldn’t take her eyes off of his grace, head thrown back, exposing almost pearlish skin under armored chin; these radiant blue eyes rolled, dagger-like teeth exposed by his mouth agape. He was alien, he was dangerous, he was striking… She felt her body heating up for him again.

“Ah, Miri, I…” she heard him mutter under his breath; the lean muscles of his body straining, making him arch. Such an alien body, such a common reaction, Miranda thought with an inner smile. His cock twitched hard in her mouth before filling it with thick, slightly sugary taste of his load. Carefully she rubbed his organ, teasing its sensitive underside with her tongue, until the hot stream and pulsing ceased and the flanging of the turian voice went soft and sweet. Garrus’ talons left feathery light touch, caressing her hair, his chest heavily rising.

“Nice shot,” she smiled, licking his shaft clean.

“Scratch one,” he reacted mechanically, still almost breathless. Slightly chuckled, shivering with delight, and added.  
“That was a headshot, wasn’t it?”

Miranda snorted.  
“You’re impossible, Vakarian.”

His shaky hand caught her by her shoulder and pulled up onto his lap again.  
“Don’t you like it about me?”

She felt his long arms encircling her, his mouthplates nuzzling on her neck.

“Well, actually I’ve noticed you’re tastier that I could expect…”

He looked at her with half-lidded and dreamy eyes.  
“What, you’d do that to me even if I wasn’t?”

“You have no idea, how nasty our men could taste,” Miranda suppressed a giggle, leaving a kiss on his undamaged cheekplate. Garrus tilted his head.

“And you still do it to them?.. Are human women, like, masochists?”

She gave him a soft smile, hand resting on his waist, fingers tracing his scales.

“It’s complicated. I don’t want to complicate things here and now…”

“Good,” he smiled in return, “Because your human complications puzzle me a lot. But… I’m amazed by your human inventiveness,” he nibbled on her ear, his voice tinted with a suggestive lilt, “Using so many body parts and orifices on my cock… My head’s still dizzy.”

“Then you have no idea of a full set that could be used,” she gave him a playful wink.

“Damn, I still can’t believe it did happen to me,” he breathed out, gaze unfocused, “A perfect human woman on her knees hungry for some turian cock… Oh, most part of my not-so-human-friendly race would have an instant orgasm from the mere thought of it.”

“Add ‘the member of pro-human extremist organization’ there,” Miranda crossed her arms on her chest. “Actually, that was a risky joke, Vakarian…”

He licked her lips with his rough bluish tongue, she couldn’t help but smile.

“But you’re too smart to know I’m just joking, without any racism intended, right?”

Miranda sighed.  
“After all things I’ve heard about myself since Shepard started to recruit those delinquents – I don’t mean you and a few others, but just a few – I doubt you can come up with something that can really hit a nerve…”

“Don’t underestimate me,” he laughed, “But there’s a difference between ‘can’ and ‘will’. I simply won’t… even try. Not my style. Not after you showed me how gorgeous you are.”

She went silent for a moment. Then asked.  
“Are you saying it to be a nice guy and compliment a girl, who just sucked you off, or you really mean it?”

“Well, I think… You have nice hair and such a fair skin… Your eyes, a lovely shade. I think I like your form,” his hands were fondling her gently, occasionally slipping between her legs, caressing her inner thighs, “Some parts of you are pretty slender, yet unarmored. Like your waist. Not turian but anyway…”

“Yeah, no match to yours,” she locked her hands around his thin waist, “You turians are impossibly slim.”

He rubbed his cheekplate against hers.  
“Our harsh environment taught our physiology never to leave an important organ in a soft place.”

Miranda ran her fingers up the unarmored part of his neck, feeling him leaning into her touch.  
“Well, I guess, from someone like you that counts for a real compliment.”

“Mm-hm, I’m not that good with compliments,” he hummed, tracing her collarbone with the tip of his tongue, “Way better in action…”

“Ready for more action?” she looked down and raised a brow with a pleasantly surprised smirk, “Impressive reload time!”

“Yeah,” he breathed out a wave of heat against her shoulder, his voice going low and husky, “Let’s see if my stamina can match your inventiveness.”

She felt giddy; she enjoyed it so much already, and his statement was full of delightful promises. She rolled her hips, grinding into him and felt his armored fingers digging in her buttocks. This would leave bruises, yet she felt kind of excited about the idea of small hidden reminders only two of them would know about.

“May I ask a last question about human females’ anatomy?” Garrus purred in her ear. “You have such… large… chestpads only asari matriarchs could come near; I was wondering is it ‘the bigger the better’ by human standards, since you like to mention your perfection?”

“Close enough,” she smiled in his neck, gently dragging her teeth over his suede skin, “It’s more about proportions, but within the reasonable limits it is like that.”

“Mmm, I… love your… proportions,” he forced her to bend backwards, arching above her; roughly textured tongue flickered against her hard nipples. She dug her fingers in his shoulders, encouraging him with a long moan. His ragged breath felt almost burning on the damp skin of her chest, his hands gliding upper along her back. He left one hand on her shoulder blades for support, cupped her left breast with another, still working his tongue on her right one. It felt wonderful, how perfectly her swell mound just fit into his long palm; she didn’t give a damn about him having less fingers as long as he knew what to do with his three on her body. He rolled her aching nipple between his fingerpads, sending jolts of pleasure through her. In return she ran her fingernails over his tender skin under the fringe - Garrus hissed, shutting his eyes and tilting his head for more. He pulled her closer, his arousal rubbing her inner thigh; she tried to shift her hips to trap him where she desperately needed him. She groaned impatiently, when his rough hand stopped her from crossing her legs behind his back.

“Are you… ready?” he asked under his breath.

“Hey, you suggested it,” she bit her lip, shooting him an impassioned glance, “We spent a while exploring each other, and seem to be pretty much content with the result, aren’t we? Now it’s time for you to screw my brains out…”

She moved her mouth closer to his ear, licked his skin behind the faceplates.

“I want you to fuck me senseless. Take me to the seventh heaven… my Archangel.”

He inhaled audibly, slowly rubbed her thigh and then gripped her ass, lifting her above the tip of his swollen member. She held on to his cowl for balance, when his hot and slick rod touched her moistness. His aim was flawless, when he guided her down on himself, his impressive cock stretching the resisting flesh slowly, inch by incredible inch entering her, delicious ridges sliding inside, making her quiver with delight. She gasped for air, when he stopped. The impossible hotness of his shaft buried deeply inside of her made her toes curl; he filled her like no man before. She threw her arms around his neck, panting into his hot skin, feeling the heat waves rising through her body.

“Are you okay?” she hardly heard his question.

“I’m better than ever before in my whole life,” she whispered heatedly, kissing his scales.

“I mean, you’re… quite tight. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she figured out the reason of his concern; he didn’t even slide his full length up her vagina, and she felt filled to her limits already.

“Don’t worry, we’re… stretchy,” Miranda panted, clinging to him, short of breath, “Just give me a moment to… accommodate.”

His smug purring ‘Good…’ was cut off by her desperate lips, searching for his mouthplates with hunger; his long and strong tongue joined the game, effortlessly winning the battle for dominance. In fact she was amazed by his self-control, she wanted to make him lose it.

“Don’t hold back,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around his waist; her deft fingers returning to the skin on his neck. She wiggled her hips, adjusting to his size, and that faint shadow of a friction made her shudder in anticipation.

“I don’t,” his short sentences, uneven breath, the stiff grip of hard long fingers spoke the opposite. “Well, maybe. A little. I’m learning…”

His tongue was back on her neck, making her buck her hips in sync with languid strokes, when electric sparks running through her body collided with heat waves. She felt needle-sharp points of his teeth grazed her clavicle lightly, but she had no fear anymore. She squeezed her thighs around his waist, feeling his fast and heavy heartbeat pulsing inside of her.

He gave up. With a soft groan he lifted her ass slowly until just the tip of his cock was inside; his hips moved up to slide back lingeringly into her. She grabbed his shoulders to meet his movement with a push down; his alien texture drove her insane, overstimulating her pleasure center. He paused, sheathed between her legs, then slid out once again, pace calm and calculated. His eyes fixated on her heavy breasts, bouncing softly, wiry muscles on his arms rolled under hard plating with easeful might. Why did she never notice, how beautiful his eyes are – bright, multicolored, a crazy turmoil of blue, silver, even green flecks…

Their rocking against each other was hasteless, long strokes hit home each time he sank deeper into her loins. His prominent hipbone was excellent to rest her thighs on, providing just perfect angle and leverage for them both to move together. They set a deliberate rhythm, heavily sighing, panting, moaning into each other’s neck, one of his hands returned to her nipples, her toned legs rubbing his waist. It felt delirious, the heat of his body around her, the heat of his cock inside of her, waves of pleasure rippling stronger through her with each thrust. And by the way he squeezed his amazing eyes shut with a delightful grin she could say he enjoyed it as much as she did.

“How about us speeding it up?” his purr was so heavy with flanging she barely understood it, “Not that I’m not loving it now…

She just nodded, unable to articulate the words and not feeling like they needed those words at all. And then his long legs just unfolded, he stood up, still joined with her, lifting her like she was weightless. And there she thought she knew about turian strength!..

Her back was pressed to the wall once again this day, more pleasant circumstance for this time though. Now she felt how powerful his lean muscles were, supporting her weight with just a slight shift of his center of gravity. Her lithe predator, strong, agile, enduring, _made of steel_. He pinned her to the wall, slamming inside of her – a rough thrust, a recoil, another thrust; oh, God, he must have entirely different joint structure to perform it that amazing way. He was increasing their tempo, amplifying every stroke not just with pelvic assault, but with a delicious nimble motion of his whole body; she writhed against him, matching his frenzied rhythm. Her breath was coming out in shuddering gasps; that incredible hot rod, pumping inside of her, overloading all the right spots with the right friction, was doing an excellent job in raising her on a highest peak of sensual delight.

“Garrus,” she whispered almost breathlessly. His rough tongue slid along her neck in a desperate stroke speaking of him being beyond the bounds of self-restraint; icy blue eyes dilated and determined.  
“Please… I want to come with you.”

He brushed her cheekbone with his nose, his movements growing even faster and harsher to approach his climax; she squeezed him with her inner muscles to provide extra stimulation. Miranda caught a hint of surprise in his lust-fogged glare, felt herself clenching around him convulsively from the proximity of her own release…

“Oh, Garrus, yes!” she clung to his neck wishing only to look into his eyes at the top of her orgasm…

She saw the blue binary stars of his eyes going supernova, when every retinal fleck edge glowed bright as the world dissolved into the blinding flash of white light. He pushed himself inside her for the last time, entering her fully, his cock throbbing and jerking viciously; and his hot seed erupting deep inside her core increased the unstoppable burst of ecstasy shaking her whole body with seeming endless waves. His hot and rigid body was pressed to hers so tightly, every spark running through any one of them made them both feel it. She closed her eyes and let her lips wander across his plated face, eliciting a gentle rumble akin to purr from him…

A soulless electronic voice broke their quiet moment of tenderness, catching each other’s breath, cherishing the last drops of bliss given to one another.

“Executive Officer Lawson, The Illusive Man awaits for an intercom connection with you.”

Miranda groaned almost painfully, embracing the neck of her lover like he was about to dissolve into thin air if she lets him go. He nuzzled her jawline, slowly sliding out of her, lowering her to her feet, yet still supporting her with his long arm. She couldn’t help but watch curiously his shaft retracting behind his groin plates.

He sounded uncertain when he finally spoke.

“So… I guess, you have a lot of work. Same for me, I’ll return to my…”

“Calibrations?” she smiled playfully.

He sighed.  
“I have no idea, what you humans find so funny about the cannonry calibrations.”

“Sorry,” she winked, “I have an idea. I need to take a shower before talking to my boss anyway…”

The turian raised his browplate slightly.

“Why don’t you join me? But we need to be quick, he doesn’t like to wait.”

“Always a quickie, you humans,” his low growl was so seductive when he scooped her up, heading towards her small bathroom cabin. The door closed behind his armored back…

* * *

_  
“…”_

_“EDI, we need to install the surveillance cameras in the bathrooms as well.”_

_“Acknowledged, Mr. Moreau. For your information, you’ll need a confirmation from Executive Officer Lawson to perform this upgrade of surveillance system. Do you want me to send that request immediately?”_

_“Shit.”_

**Author's Note:**

> _Story continues in a sequel 'In Sight'._


End file.
